First Meetings
by YaoiLord
Summary: Barry Allen made a new friend, Jonas King, through the dating app Iris introduced to him. When they finally meet in person though, he thinks there's a mistake because it's the Star City's billionaire playboy waiting for him instead. Consequently, he meets also the Star City vigilante for the first time.


another unprompted first meeting AU you have to deal with. Whole fic is in Barry's POV. And Oliver's second name, Jonas, is a headcanon I read somewhere—that is apparently an actual canon as somebody from the comments pointed out.

* * *

It was completely unintended at first.

Iris had been talking about this dating app for days and had been insisting for him to set up an account under the pretense of _I'm your sister and I'm looking out for you_ , and it was true in general, except that this was mostly about her being the miserable one between the two of them on how _single_ Barry was.

Admittedly, there were lonely nights, but he would get by. And it wasn't like he could maintain his own profile above being a CSI and the Flash at the same time. But he was touched nonetheless by her concern. He knew she meant well.

He wondered what her grin could have meant then when she lingered in CCPD the whole lunch break, fingers flying across the screen of her phone, but then he thought it was only typical of Iris to get carried away like this.

Besides, it wasn't like he would be using the said account she set up for him. And it could deactivate itself due to inactivity for all he cared.

Except that some nights later of tossing and turning on his bed with a raging insomnia, he absentmindedly scrolled at the long list of people online that time within the 600 miles from his location (he was sure there was a small part of Star City included as well). And then paused on a name that he thought had a nice ring to it. Like Barry, the man didn't have a displayed picture but the default male avatar they both used.

 _ **Jonas King**_

He briefly wondered if the person was related to Stephen King, one of his favorite fictional authors, and then he chuckled to himself at his own joke, followed with a horrified _shit, I didn't just send that._

It was too late when _message sent_ flashed on the screen.

He hoped that whoever the recipient was, it would be disregarded; he openly admitted that wasn't his best start of conversation.

When he got a simple _no_ , he supposed the man wasn't interested in talking to him and it was good for him because he could ignore the reply and could pretend nothing happened, except that Barry tended to do the exact opposite of what he has in mind.

So he continued, asking whether this Jonas happened to have a pet named Cujo and _damn it Barry, shut up_. He realized he made a spelling mistake and instead the man thought he was insinuating that he has an _unflattering_ pet name, and _Christ_ , who has a pet name of a rabid dog?

The man told him about how Barry reminded him of a friend, after the latter's multiple lines of babbling ( _Iris will not let this down if she finds out_ ). He mulled whether Jonas meant an unfavorable kind of friend who you want to get away from when they started talking. Barry wouldn't be startled if that was the case.

He thought that was the end of their chat when Jonas suddenly followed his previous message with a brief one, asking whether he was still there. Turns out, it wasn't their last interaction—it lasted for hours, continued until the next morning, the other day, the next one, and the next and next until he lost count.

Roughly three months, actually.

They had been talking that long that it came as a surprise to Barry. It was nice to talk to somebody about anything even the most random of topics or as plain as the weather. Heck, he could even tell him the lamest of science puns that he could muster which would leave Barry amused whenever Jonas mentioned he would look that one up or would ask his friend since he didn't get the joke.

Once, Barry asked him subtly whether if the latter was getting tired or feeling bothered by him. He could imagine him shrugging, telling him _I'm used to it,_ and that was enough for Barry's insecure self. Their talks at night did occupy most of the other man's time especially at the evenings where Barry knew Jonas was currently at work, which he had jokingly asked him if it was an _illegal_ business that required the cover of the dark, and then added that _you'll get in trouble with your city's vigilante, you know_.

That was one of their common subjects too—their local vigilantes. More often than not they would debate on who would win in a one-on-one duel between the Flash and Arrow. _The Arrow has tactical awareness,_ as Jonas would say, in which Barry would rebut with _I bet he's basically standing still in the eyes of the Flash_ and, well, his argument was valid because it was true anyway.

But really, Barry couldn't be a hundred percent sure yet since he never cross paths with Star City's vigilante before. He just know the man was already donning the hood way before the particle acceleration explosion, and somehow became Barry's idol despite the unfavorable response to his way of doing justice and the body count. He was on the loop regarding the Arrow, privately cheering for the man whenever he takes down a city threat, even if the citizens of Star City didn't share the same feelings towards the vigilante. And as the Flash, he would really like to meet the Arrow as the latter had been in the business earlier than him. He could use some advice.

There was a huge part of him that knew the whole reason of his admiration for the Arrow was the wishful thinking if the vigilante could have caught his mother's murderer if he was already around that time.

And while it was a fanciful thought, he couldn't help but share it to his new friend.

Much to his surprise, Jonas gave him a confident reply of _I'm sure he will, especially for someone like you who believes in him._ It did wonders to Barry's resolve, feeling more inspired all of a sudden.

 _Thank you_. And he meant that sincerely.

"You're smiling," Iris commented from the doorway, carrying two takeout coffees in hand as she approached his table on one sunny Tuesday.

Barry immediately straightened from the chair, looking as if a deer caught in headlights. He put his phone down in an instant. "Hey, Iris." He chuckled nervously. "You drop by?"

"Don't 'Hey, Iris' me, Barry Allen." She settled down the cup in front of him with more force than necessary. "I totally caught you smiling on your phone." She leaned over the table with a conspiratorial grin. "So… who is it?"

"N-No one! Just reading a funny article."

Iris looked unconvinced. _Of course she isn't._

"It's a pun that's really lame that it's funny."

 _Don't look at me like that, I'll break!_

"Really, Barry?"

Well, it wasn't like he was immune to her interrogative gaze getting heavier each passing second. He gulped. "Okay. So I'm not really reading an article."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything.

"And I may have met somebody through that dating app you installed on my phone."

 _Three… two… one…_

"Oh my god." She squealed in glee, inching closer to his personal space. "So who is she? Give me a name."

"It's a guy, actually." If anything, her squeals went louder. "His name is Jonas King. He's from Star City."

"And how does Jonas King looks like? C'mon, Barr, give me juicy details."

Barry blinked. That was a good question, actually. In the span of months of their communication, they never had an idea of how each other look like. Barry did let his imagination come to play, such as Jonas' physical appearance which he kind of think resembles his own body type. He was guessing that has this default look of seriousness that wasn't really stoic but more on the side of calm and reserved. As for his age, Barry was quite tentative whether the man was older than him.

"Or better yet, pictures if you have one."

And, no, he didn't have one either. "Actually, I don't know anything else about him apart from the name and the city he's from," he admitted sheepishly.

It was a bit disappointing to realize how guarded they were still.

Not that Barry was taking the initiative to know the man further beyond their mutual _fanboying_ to their cities' respective vigilantes. He respected the decision to be privy, he really does. But as much as that was enough for them, there was a selfish side of Barry that wanted to know more.

"It's not like I'd go sharing that I work for the CCPD either," he retorted weakly.

Iris frowned and was deep in thought, but thankfully didn't press the matter further.

The night of the same day, Barry was debating to himself if he should ask a personal question. His curiosity won him and so he did, but not without asking first whether Jonas minded. The man said he doesn't and answered Barry's inquiry of his age. And Barry was right on his guessing—he was four years younger than the man.

He could have asked for any after that, but instead opted on asking about his eye color. _Blue_ , and then Barry's own imagination supplied a more elaborated details such as the shade ( _cobalt blue? sea blue?_ ). To his mild surprise, the question was thrown back at him, and he readily gave an answer— _green_.

Slowly, he pieced together details to form a face through the consecutive nights of inquiries without pushing each other outside of their comfort zone. It was like a huge jigsaw puzzle that was gradually being completed.

And when the puzzle was half done, Jonas stopped communicating altogether.

It started with an unreturned greeting of _good morning,_ and then progressed to messages not replied. Barry chalked it up at first to the man being busy, but the days without talking to each other became weeks. He became concerned then, more so when the news also featured the mysterious disappearance of Star City vigilante. And Barry didn't really get where the worry was coming from since the two were not connected as far as he knew. He decided it was because of the current vulnerability of the neighboring city with the Arrow absent.

Besides, Jonas could have simply decided to stop communicating with Barry; though the reason was beyond him, it wasn't impossible when he thought about it.

It was really saddening though.

It wasn't until another week without hearing from Jonas when Barry received a message of _I want to see you in person._

It was followed later with an apology for not being around for a month, and then another insistence on meeting Barry personally.

He felt relieved, for knowing that the man was alright and realizing that he wasn't ditched as he initially thought. But he wasn't sure if he was ready to do what Jonas was asking him. Not that he was avoiding the moment, he was always _anticipating_ for it to happen, but he was worried on how he would be received.

 _Will he be disappointed?_ was often his common line of thought. And there was always a knowing part of his mind that one way or another he would somehow ruin their first meeting.

 _I sound like a girl._

It was ridiculous, he thought. _I'm ridiculous. It's not like he's asking me for a date!_

Though it did sound like a _date._ But after a careful and well thought out decision and trying not to ask Cisco for a background check, Barry agreed.

 _God help him me I don't mess this one up._

* * *

The day came.

It was a cold evening, colder than usual for Central City, and _no, it's not my nerves._

Right.

They planned to meet at exactly six, when Barry was already out of precinct and enough time for Jonas to get dinner before his nightshift. Barry let the other man set the place while he was the one to give the time and date. It was in this Italian place (located near the boundaries of Central and Star City) that he couldn't pronounce the name well, but by the looks of it smells pretty expensive that he feared he might be underdressed for the occasion.

 _Arrived a little while ago and got us a table. You can ask for my name. –Jonas_

Of course, let's not forget he was running late. _Again._ Though in his defense, only for a few minutes.

When he arrived and was directed to a table beside the glass windows and near the back, he turned sharply to the attendant and asked if there was a mistake.

Because, well, it was one Oliver Queen who was sitting there.

Oliver Queen, Star City's billionaire playboy who got lost in an island for five years, and somehow came back okay but never mentioned a thing on what he experienced there.

Yep, there has to be a mistake.

"You must be Barry Allen," the billionaire said once he noticed Barry standing not far, a bit (more than) stupefied, and contemplating whether to turn back around and leave the place. "Oliver Queen. Though I suppose you already know that. But you know me more as Jonas King." He offered a hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Barry numbly shook it, not quite recovering yet in realization that _oh god, I'm chatting with Oliver Queen all this time and I even said a lot of nonsense and fanboyed and made several science puns almost every day_.

He awkwardly took a seat, pulling at the chair with more force than necessary that the legs scraped the floor. _I'm embarrassed, alright?_ His eyes darted anywhere other than Queen, gaze settling down the table with shiny silverwares and expertly folded napkins.

He got the name now. Jonas was Queen's second name, and the King was opposite of the surname. Clever.

The older man broke the heavy silence, clearing his throat. "First and foremost, I apologize if I lied about my identity. I hope you understand."

Barry's head snapped up, as if shocked that he was talking to him. "O-Oh what? I mean, yeah, sure. I-I totally understand really." Queen gave him a small smile which Barry returned unsurely and there was a heat on his cheeks— _damn it,_ _I probably look like a tomato now._ "I'm just surprised you're using the... thing." He let out a shaky laugh.

"It's completely unintended at first," Oliver said. "It's my sister who actually set me up with that. I humored her and when I thought that I'll find it useless, it's actually not."

The younger man perked up. "You know, it's also my sister who set me up for this dating app too."

Oliver was amused. "Some sister we have, huh?"

Barry smiled shyly, eyes meeting blue ones briefly before turning downwards again. "So why did you? I mean, if you found it useless in the first place, why did you use it?" He didn't intend to sound accusing, but he couldn't help but think that maybe the billionaire thought talking to him was a good way to pass the time. If that was the case then it was depressing.

The older man seemed to catch the tone that a guilty expression flashed on his face, so fast that Barry barely caught, before putting on a slight smirk. "Your unique pick-up line caught my attention," he said lightly.

"M-My what?"

" _You don't happen to be related to Stephen King, are you?_ " Oliver said, recalling the very first message. He watched as Barry's face went even redder, much to the man's amusement. "I never heard that line before. I was impressed."

"Hey, that's not—ugh." He scowled at the offending cutlery and pouted. "I admit that's not my best," he murmured.

"Of course. The next one is better." Oliver leaned forward a bit, mustering a serious expression. " _Do you have a pet name Cujo?_ " He tilted his head to the side. "Are rabid dog names a thing now?"

He was laughing throatily that sounded nice in Barry's ears and tugged his heartstrings, and then he was chuckling with him though he thought nothing was really funny except for his own awkwardness.

"And here we are now," Oliver concluded softly.

Barry hummed in agreement. "I suppose you're right."

Blue eyes met green in a meaningful silence, until Oliver took the initiative to look at the menu and ordered.

Over the meal, they opened up more. Barry trusted the man with some personal details, such as mentioning that he worked for the CCPD as CSI, and living with the Wests, his foster family. Oliver didn't push on the topic of his parents which Barry was grateful for. In return, Barry would divert from the subject whenever it got dangerously close on Oliver Queen's missing five years as it never appeared that the man wanted to talk about it.

Barry even told him about Iris' cheat list.

"You're among the three people there," he said, awkwardness long gone by then. "The other two are male Hollywood celebrities I don't even recognize."

Oliver quirked an eyebrow at this. "Cheat list?"

Barry nodded. "Yeah. Her boyfriend has one too. It's funny."

Oliver Queen was charming just like what the tabloids said, not that Barry reads them but he has Iris for a sister. Though they never mentioned him as a patient man—listening to Barry's stories even if he gets strayed from the point; nor he was mentioned as somebody who was honest, speaking what was on his mind freely. It was different from the sweet smooth talker the media made him to be. Not to mention the man was witty and knowledgeable on practical skills ( _And the tabloids even say he's a pretty face and lacking in anything up there_ ). They said Oliver Queen is a flatterer (in relation to his playboy attitude), but he only mentioned a sincere compliment or two at Barry's way.

" _You didn't say they're emerald greens._ "

" _You have freckles. They look nice on you."_

Barry identified himself as a good judge of character; therefore he knew he would have to do some serious reconsidering on his impression on Oliver Queen. It helped that he got to know him at least in person.

And, yeah, Barry realized he may or may not have been developing a little crush on him.

They were at dessert, sharing high school anecdotes (Queen seemed to have a lot of them) when Barry's phone rang with the ringtone from calls directly from S.T.A.R. Labs. Consequently, Oliver's did the same thing from his coat's breast pocket.

They both excused themselves in the exact moment.

Cisco informed him from the other line that there was a meta spreading menace not far from Barry's current location and expected him to arrive at the scene in a few minutes as the situation was looking dire there already.

When he ended the call, Oliver seemed to know what he would be saying.

"CCPD called. They need me at the crime scene," he tried not to sound disappointed. "And, well, I had a great time, but this is more important than me," he offered, vaguely gesturing at the exit. "I-I'll go now, if you don't mind."

Oliver gave him an understanding smile. "I was worried I'll be the one to leave first. It's alright. My secretary called from Q.C. too, something I have to deal with immediately." He sighed. "I guess I'll see you around?"

"Yeah." Barry thought for a moment. "Um, if this ends up early, I'm planning to go back here. And, uh, I'll be waiting outside if, you know, you finish with your stuffs too. That is, if you're still interested?" he asked nervously.

"I'd like that." He grinned. "See you later?"

After politely declining a lift to the precinct and insisting to split the bill, Barry immediately headed to S.T.A.R. Labs to suit himself and then continued to the said area.

To say it was a mess was an understatement.

It was a local open field where a night gathering of some sort of association was being held. It had a fair amount of people, judging by the number individuals clamoring to escape as the meta's evil plants rained down on them. The Flash helped most to get to safety, narrowly avoiding succulent veins groping for any feet to latch on that sometimes broke his momentum when they slithered on the surface. There was a little boy who got caught that he hastily saved with a swift cut on a tentacle with his speed.

While it was easy to phase through the offending veins, it takes a lot of effort to do so while moving. The team advised him to render the meta unconscious as she's the main source of energy of the moving plants. Until when he was finally closer to her, a tentacle that he tore let out a massive amount of liquid substance that managed to hit his eyes, rendering him momentarily blind. The meta took the chance to swipe him off and throw him three feet away, back hitting a tree trunk.

Barry groaned at the pain. There were also the distressed voices of the team in his earpiece.

After seconds of recovering himself, there was a loud shriek followed by consecutive thuds, as if large objects fell on the ground, which filled Barry's ears. Once his vision adjusted, he could see a lump of an unconscious woman not far.

With an arrow sticking out of her shoulder.

He made his way towards the woman to check for vitals. There was a pulse, but it was faint. He removed the arrow, examining the green tipping. It was familiar.

"Tranquilizer arrow," came a modulated voice. "A large dose."

It was the Star City vigilante.

"Um, thanks?" Barry offered unsurely, the weight of the arrow resting heavily on his palm.

Although the presence of the hood was unexpected, Barry thought he'd be met with conflict regarding the handling of the meta, as the territory was shared between the two of them, and with the Arrow's way of eliminating threats (something Star City was quite averse of) which didn't appeal to the Flash's moral code. But as he carried the woman to bring back to S.T.A.R. Labs, the vigilante said nothing and merely nodded in assent.

Well, that was anticlimactic for a first meeting.

Barry sped back to the scene that was now teemed with Central City police, with Detective West in tow. They exchanged acknowledging nods and then his foster father resumed with the scene investigation. As for him, he took a quick glance to see if the Arrow was still around the area. He mentally noted to give credit to the vigilante to Joe later.

The Flash lingered for a half an hour with the police before deciding that they got it all wrapped up. He already got a call from the labs, informing him of the successful detainment of the meta. It was almost ten in the evening when he arrived back to the restaurant.

It was closed for the night, and outside, there was no Oliver Queen in sight.

Barry tried to hide his disappointment.

 _Of course_ , he thought glumly. It was getting late; as if some billionaire would wait long for somebody as unimportant as him.

It was nice while it lasted.

Footsteps of somebody running hit the pavements, making him turn to the direction of the sound. And then there was a person, running as if on a chase with a madman.

 _Wha—Oliver?_

Barry blinked when the older man skidded to a stop, panting slightly. "Hey."

"Hey."

Oliver straightened himself, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry. I know it took me longer than expected. And I can't slip a text in the middle of the impromptu meeting."

"Believe it or not, I arrived a few minutes ago." The younger man grinned. "But your vigilante saved us some trouble by helping the Flash so..."

Queen hummed in thought. "Good for us then." He walked closer. "Do you know how you can thank him? By spending some more of your free time with me." He paused. "If you want to?" He extended at hand towards the other.

Barry chuckled. "Of course," he said before taking the proffered hand. And to his surprise, Oliver brought it to his lips, kissing the skin lightly.

Oliver noted fondly the slacked jaw and heavily blushing face. "Look, I really wanted to give this a chance. And I… I'm glad to have met you. Trust me when I say I think you're amazing."

"I-I am?"

He nodded. "Yes. And I hope to know you more. If you'll permit it."

There were million things running in Barry's mind, but instead he tightened his hold, abashedly meeting Oliver's eyes. "I'd like to know you more too."

The smile he received made his heart do somersaults and realized, yeah, that _small_ crush was no longer small. "What do you say to pizza? I know a place."

With all the running, Barry craved for more food and how was he to refuse?

Especially if it also meant he gets the company of one Oliver Queen.

* * *

 **THE END**

* * *

if you reach this point, thanks, I guess?


End file.
